has spotted the stuff and the general warning goes out, the whole currency of the country will be infected with that bad paper, and nine people out of ten won't even know whether it's bad or good!"
Wilsnach's eyes rested on Kestner as the figure in clericals took out a second cigar, lighted it, and then looked at his watch.
"My God, what a coup!" finally gasped the man from the Paris Office.
"You see what it means—we've got to jump in and stop that half million from getting out. They've got their own tailers. I made sure of that yesterday, when I called a messenger and gave him a sealed envelope to deliver, for a decoy. That messenger was waylaid and my message was opened and read. That shows you we've got to do some side-stepping. We've got to get that counterfeit paper; and we've got to get Hardman or Lambert, or whatever you want to call him. Then we've got to get Maura Lambert and gather in the Wimpel woman, and be ready and waiting for Morello when he dodges back from Washington!"
"But what's the plan?"
"It's this: Lambert will leave that Fifty-first Street house to-night at nine o'clock sharp. He'll carry the money in a black club bag, and he'll be alone. He'll take a taxi-cab to Dirlam's Casino on upper Broadway, just north of One Hundred and First Street. And you will be driving that taxi-cab."
"Will I?" inquired Wilsnach.
"That'll be all fixed, for unless we get him on the wing we can't land him without police help—and this
